


All Love Will Return to the Sea

by moonqueenallura



Category: Moonlight (2016)
Genre: Fluff, Gratuitous use of moonlight and ocean imagery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonqueenallura/pseuds/moonqueenallura
Summary: Trevante Rhodes said in an interview that he envisions Kevin and Chiron at the age of 90, walking hand-in-hand in a park. That beautiful little tidbit inspired me to write a quick piece on them taking a walk to the beach, a few months after the ending of the canon narrative. I hope I’m able to do justice to the intensity, purity, and beauty of their love. And in deference to the narrative’s use of sparing & powerful dialogue, I have only included one or two lines of dialogue.





	

Kevin once described Miami as hot and slow. Chiron now walked on a boardwalk, heated by the sun, that screamed like a testament to his statement. Beside him, Kevin smiled up at the swaying palm trees and continued talking about how his day went. 

Chiron considered that perhaps spending his days in a haze of sweat and quietude weren’t so bad - he was content to simply let Kevin talk as he was wont do. He could listen to Kevin’s voice for days on end. Slow heat, warmth, and light molded together to create the particulars of Kevin’s voice, of his cadence, of his movements, of his distinct mannerisms.

Kevin stopped momentarily in his movements, directing the soft glow of his gaze to Chiron. “There you go again just staring at me in that way of yours,” he said amusedly, the smile on his face belying the teasing tone of his words.

As was typical of him, Chiron did not deign to respond with words and instead communicated the exactitude of his feelings with his eyes. Kevin and Chiron communicated far more with longing, yearning gazes than with verbal statements. It was a testament to how well Kevin knew him that he could discern the spirit and mirth and love Chiron held when Kevin simply walked next to him.

Chiron sometimes felt he would be swept away like the sand underneath the ocean when he stopped to think about the depth of what he felt for Kevin. But Kevin had always anchored him to the earth. He was the only person who could cut directly to his heart and see the truth behind his silent ruminations. Even when he hid himself behind a wall of iron and concrete, Kevin always softened him back to the little boy he was, the one who took endless rides on trains and swam through the ocean underneath the sun.

Around them, children ran to and fro enjoying ice cream cones while their parents sat nearby and chatted with each other. Vendors sold their wares and frazzled customers, irritatedly wiping sweat off their brows, haggled to lower the prices on their beach figurines and souvenirs. Seagulls flew through the air and landed near curious beachgoers, pecking at the sand to lure the beachgoers into perhaps throwing bread crumbs in their direction.

Hot and slow. Hot and slow. Life in Miami was hot and slow. Making love with Kevin was hot and slow. If Chiron was anyone else, he would grow tired of the act of bringing his body together with his beloved on such hot and slow nights. But slow warmth made for sensuousness, and Kevin’s body managed to both heat his blood and cool him down.

They continued down the boardwalk and made their way to the beach itself, walking to their favorite spot. This was one of Chiron’s favorite activities. If anything else, besides the pain and a decade of lost time and hurtful realizations, Kevin and Chiron always had this: the wind and the sun and the sea. The wind ruffled their shirts the first time their lips met as the moon smiled down at them. The sea would always bear witness to everything they were: so different yet so achingly similar. And the sun created the slow heat that surrounded them everywhere they went.

Kevin laid out a towel for them to sit on. This was also part of their routine; they would walk and look upon the sights, taking in the people around them, and they would sit on the beach until the moon came out. They would then perhaps swim or walk or just lie there together, depending on their whimsy.

Time passed gradually, and the number of people on the beach lessened. The sun moved through the sky in phases. The distance between Kevin and Chiron lessened as well, until they were pressed against each other, finger-to-finger, hip-to-hip. Chiron liked it when Kevin slept in his lap, or when Kevin stroked his head. His fingers, so used to hard work, were eternally soft and gentle, tender and precise in their care.

They were always so soft around each other. No, they did not tiptoe. There was never any need for such caution. But they  _ were _ soft. They brought out an inherent vulnerability, an inherent sensitivity, a deference to rawer and softer emotions. And Chiron had learned from Kevin that it was okay to unconditionally accept it.

As the afternoon darkened into the evening, pink faded into its last vestiges as night began to overtake the sky. Kevin turned to Chiron. “You been quiet for a while. What’re you thinkin’ about?” he asked jokingly, even though he probably knew. He always knew what Chiron thought about.

And again, Chiron was silent for a while before he thought to respond. He merely took Kevin’s fingers in his hand and stroked them, one by one, until he felt Kevin shiver pleasantly. He felt Kevin’s body shudder against his own. Maybe Kevin’s eyes would close, and maybe he’d lean against him, and maybe they’d fall asleep like that.

“I just thought, y’know. You and me. We’re always near the ocean,” Chiron eventually replied, his gaze fixed on Kevin’s graceful fingers.

Kevin laughed in acknowledgement. “That’s because you and me? We can’t lie when we’re near the ocean. Brings the truth out in us, you see.”

Chiron kissed the tips of Kevin’s fingers in agreement. Kevin hummed and leaned back against his chest. He heard Juan’s voice echoing in his head:  _ black boys look blue in the moonlight _ . He and Kevin were blue underneath the moon, but the ocean was black in the moonlight. That made the color of their love a swirl of black and blue, always growing, always evolving, always calming.

Kevin turned and smiled up at him. Chiron leaned down and their lips met, and the only thing between them at that point was the breeze, heightening the salty tang of the sea and whistling between their bodies.

Ahead of them, the moon illuminated the ocean’s waves as it watched over two men turn soft and bloom blue. 


End file.
